All That Shimmers Fades
by The BatThing
Summary: Bruce Wayne found out he has cancer and now it's the choice of fighting it or letting it win.


_"You got to leave me now, you have to go alone. You have to chase the dream, one that's all your own, before it slips away. When you're flying high, take my heart along. I'll be the harmony to every lonely song that you learn to play. Angel you were born to fly, and if you get to high, I'll catch you when you fall. Your memory is the sunshine that every new day brings. I know the sky is calling... Angel, let me help you with your wings." _

_–Nickel Creek 'When You Come Back Down'_

All That Shimmer's Fades:

By: The BatThing

Tim Drake lifted his head to the heavens, silent. He sat on the roof of Wayne Manor, outside the window to his room, arms wrapped around his knees. At the moment he wanted nothing more than to forget. He wanted to push the memory out of his mind, to forget what had happened a few minutes earlier. No matter how much he tried, he couldn't make it go away.

Stop.

Rewind.

Play.

It started all over again, always on constant replay. Tim shook his head so hard his neck hurt. There was a dull throb, starting at his neck and covering his face, reminding him just how hard it was to forget. Not even blunt blows to the face would make Tim stop remembering.

Tim Drake lowered his head, shunning the heavens. Here he was again, walking down the long, incomparable staircase of Wayne Manor, taking the steps five at a time, not considering the fact.

"Master Bruce, one test, if I daresay so, doesn't imply much," Alfred Pennyworth was saying in a nervous tone. He was trying, but wasn't able, to hide his worry.

Bruce gave an odd type of chuckle and this caused Tim to stop his descent and listen to what was being said. "Alfred, that is true, had it been my first test I wouldn't think much of it, I probably wouldn't show it to you. Had been the first test that came out positive."

There was a paused and slowly Alfred began to reply. "Sir, how many doctors have you seen?"

"Five, this is the fifth that came out with the same answer Alfred, I think it's safe to say I have cancer."

Cancer? Tim sank to the ground, feeling a swarm of butterflies rising in flight. Cancer?

"Have you responded to treatment yet?" Alfred sounded anxious and irritable at the same time. "I trust you have."

"Treatment might give me another year Alfred, but nothing more." Bruce's tone was calm, "the last doctor I went to told me he's seen what I have in one other person. And that person is no longer with us."

"But you will respond to treatment." Alfred managed.

"I decided not to accept treatment Alfred."

Alfred was silent once more.

"I don't see the point in trying to get treatment when the person before me tried to and failed. The doctors said that it would be best to go on stress free, and that would be my best medicine."

"What about the boys? One of whom, I might add is only 15 years old and still looking to you for guidance. And what about Gotham, Master Bruce?"

"I'll tell the boys." Bruce paused for a moment. "And since when have you supported the Gotham crusade, ever since I started you have shown your distaste for my doing it."

"Sir, I believe in the crusade, I think Gotham needs The Batman, or someone like him. I just never, I never enjoyed the thought of you going out every night, and the possibility each time that you might not return. And when the children came, it was hard for me to never be out there with you. Never out there to make sure you were all safe."

"Alfred, I-"

Tim didn't wait around to listen to what was being said, he jerked around and dashed clumsily up the stairs. He fled what he had heard, but couldn't escape it.

And so he had came out on the roof, in an attempt to get away, in an attempt to forget. Tim covered his head and buried his face in his knees. What was he thinking? He knew better than this, after spending the first 13 years of his life living with his dad he knew not to place trust in people.

'But Bruce and them had been different,' he reasoned, 'and it's not like Bruce was trying to get cancer, it's not like he wants to do this.'

'All people are the same Tim. Don't fool yourself.' The little voice told him. 'You can't trust anyone because everyone is always looking out for themselves.'

"Bruce goes every night into Gotham, he risks his life to save people," Tim whispered in reply.

'You go out alongside him, and why do you do it?'

'Because I want to help.' Tim told himself.

'Wrong answer! Because it's cool to be Robin. You get something out of it, don't you? Of course you do.'

Tim scratched his elbow and nodded, "Bruce does it to get revenge for his parents."

'Of course,' the voice answered.

The boy nodded. "What now then, what should we do?" He looked beside him, as if to see the little voice.

'Leave, it'd be easier to leave. Run away.'

Tim considered.

'If you leave you don't have to see Bruce fall. He'll still be the Batman to you. But if you stay you'll just see another funeral. You'll just cry. And Tim Drake doesn't cry.'

Tim turned away, but couldn't escape.

'Run Tim, its best.'

"Tim?"

The boy turned around, eyes wide, and mouth hanging open. "Bruce?"

The man stood at the window, looking at the boy with a quirked eyebrow. "Are you all right?"

Mouth still opened, Tim nodded.

"Can I join you for a moment?"

'Here it comes,' the little voice told him.

Tim nodded.

Bruce smiled his strange smile and went through the window and sat beside Tim. "It's kind of cold out here."

"Y-yeah."

Bruce was silent, looking at the sky.

Tim fumbled with his hands and fought with the little voice.

'Tell him you are tired, get rid of him!' The voice told Tim.

'Leave me alone, I can handle this without you.'

'You can't handle this without me, don't be a dick.'

'I'm rubber, you're glue, whatever you say bounces off me, and sticks to you,' Tim thought.

'I guess.'

"So, Tim, I wanted to talk to you about something," Bruce suddenly said. "You know how I went out today?"

Tim nodded, "Yeah."

"Well, I went to the doctors." Bruce chuckled, nervous. "And Tim, there is something you should know."

'Tell him to get lost, tell him you already know and don't give a-.'

"Tim, I have cancer."

Tim didn't flinch; he just sat as if he hadn't heard.

"Tim?"

"I heard." Tim slowly looked at the man, but refused to meet his eyes. "What are you going to do?"

Bruce released a long breath and gave a small smile. "I am going to do what the doctors suggested buddy. I am going to go on with my life. I am not accepting treatment."

Tim tossed his head and made it a point not to connect eyes with Bruce. "How long?"

"Some time still, listen, I don't want you to worry at all about this. It's not a big deal."

"How is having cancer not a big deal?" Tim slowly faced the man. "I'm not a little kid Bruce, I know what cancer is, and I know what happens when you have it and don't accept treatment. You don't make it. You leave."

Bruce was silent, studying the young man before him. Tim was right, he was growing. The man could see the traces of the adult Tim was shaping into. And he knew that he wouldn't be there to see that adult.

"But it's ok." Tim shrugged, "I'll make it. I always do."

Bruce lifted his head in a half nod, "you are a tough kid, I'll hand you that."

Tim glared at the man. "Thanks," he said, though he didn't sound very thankful.

"Something is bothering you, besides the cancer."

Tim shook his head angrily. "No."

"Don't lie to me. Tell me what is going on, why are you so upset. Is it the cancer?"

"Sure, it's the cancer," Tim jumped to his feet, he could feel pricks as the tears started, "and the fact that you aren't even trying! You aren't even going to fight it! Just like dad, you are going to turn tail and leave me."

"Tim, that isn't what," Bruce began.

"No! I don't care what the doctors say! I don't care if it does nothing! You are the Batman, you don't let something so stupid stop you! You are just like dad; he was a fighter, till it came to Two-Face threatening him. Instead of protecting himself and _me_ he left. He left me and Two-Face would have killed me if it weren't for the Batman."

"And just like him you are going to put down your fists, you are going to turn tail, and you are going to leave me and Dick. You are going to leave us here alone!" Tim turned around and jumped back in the window, entering his room.

"Tim."

The boy ignored the man following behind him and grabbed his tennis shoes, dropping to the ground and slipping them on. He fumbled with the laces as Bruce squatted before him.

"Timothy."

Tim managed to lace one and then turned to give the other his attention. He held his head, making sure his hair covered his eyes, not wanting Bruce to see him.

The man caught Tim's hand and then forced the boys chin up gently. "Don't worry Timmy."

There was a pause and Tim considered hitting the man. The little voice suggested it.

"You are right, I am putting down my fists on this one, and I don't want to fight it. I suppose I am like your father in those regards." There was a pause and Bruce released the boy's chin. He gave a small smile. "There is a part of me that wants to go, I'm tired Timmy."

Tim didn't know what to say.

Bruce gave a small shrug. "But you and Dick mean more to me than I mean to myself. If I didn't believe that I wouldn't have taken you both in. So I'll fight Tim, I'll fight for you."

"You'll leave me," asked Tim?

"Perhaps," Bruce replied.

There was a pause, "but not like dad left me."

"Not like him, no."

Tim nodded. "Ok." He forgot about his shoes, the little voice had been silenced. "Ok."

Bruce gave a small shrug, "well, I am going to call Dick, and tell him." Then man got to his feet and patted Tim's head.

The watched the man who had been invincible, then man who he had known never to fall or back down walk away. "Bruce," he called.

"Hmm?"

"Thanks."

The man smiled.

END

IMPORTANT

1) Does anyone know how to publish something? Can anyone help or give suggestion? If so email me at or just go to my Xanga! (See my profile) Or IM me (see profile)

2) Thanks to Silver The Kid, AKA just Silver! I never considered the idea of Tim having emotionally damage by his father leaving. She pointed that out and it hit me. But I didn't think about it till starting this story. So the real credit goes to her! She came up with most of this without knowing it! So hats of to Silver! Yea! Wheeee! Timmy Drake all the way!

-Casity


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